Torn Pages
by Aishuu
Summary: A collection of Death Note fanfiction. Sixth story: In the end, Misa can only wait for death.
1. His Son's Father

**Aishuu Offers:  
His Son's Father  
A Death Note Fanfic  
Notes: Spoilers for... 20? Let's say that.

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The house is dark by the time Yagami arrives home. He isn't surprised; it has been nearly a week since he has been home, and he knows that his family isn't expecting him - but tomorrow Raito will graduate from high school, and he wants to be there when his son wakes up in the morning to share the moment and to wish him well.

He has been missing so many of the important things lately. The Kira investigation is taking too much of his time, and he knows that he is obsessed with capturing a man who may not even exist. He can't remember the last time he's gone for an hour without thinking of Kira, the phantom who kills from afar.

As he crosses the threshold of the door, he pauses to take off his shoes, but doesn't bother to turn on the lights. His family is sleeping inside. What he wants is to go upstairs and slide into bed beside Sachiko, take her in his arms and pretend for the evening that things are as they should be, that things haven't changed.

Coming into his home doesn't feel safe anymore, not since L forced him to betray his family. He did it for their own protection, but when he ordered that cameras be placed to watch his wife and children, he turned upon them, defining himself as a policeman above all.

"Welcome home, father," a soft voice says, and he almost jumps out of his skin at hearing a voice float out of the darkness. He had thought everyone in bed, as it is after midnight, but his son is still awake.

"Raito?" he asks, even though he would have recognized his son's voice anywhere. There is a cultured, precise edge to it is unmistakable, a careful enunciation that is uncommon in the teenaged, but then Raito is an uncommon teenager. Raito has always been his pride and joy. Raito is perfection in human form, he sometimes thinks, blessed with looks and brains and amazing compassion. He's way ahead of the curve, and Yagami sometimes cannot believe that Raito is his son.

He hears the sound of someone moving around, the soft shuffle of slippered feet as his son approaches. "It's good to see you," Raito says. He is close by, probably less than three feet away, but without any form of illumination, Yagami can't be sure.

"I can't see anything in this darkness. Let me get a light," Yagami said. He wants to see Raito, see the features that he's only seen in surveillance photographs and videotape, remind himself that Raito is real and not some suspect for a case. Despite what L says, he will not believe his son is Kira. He remembers raising him, and there is no way the boy who he taught to ride a bike would ever become a self-righteous killer. Raito believes in justice, and there is no justice in Kira's actions.

"Don't bother. I've got tea on the stove in the kitchen, and your favorite biscuits as well, if you're not too tired." There's warmth and affection in Raito's tone, along with a sense of forgiveness that Yagami feels he does not deserve.

He is familiar enough with the house to find the kitchen without any lights, and he follows the sound of Raito's footsteps without concern for bumping into anything. The light peeks from around of the cracks of the door, and he sees his son's shadowed form open the door.

The light makes him squint in pain as his eyes adjust, but Raito is already moving to the stove, grabbing an oven mitt and removing the metal kettle deftly. His son is skilled at most things, and Yagami sighs as he heads over to the table, loosening his tie and shrugging out of his suit jacket. There is an ashtray on the table without any sign of recent use, and that seems to be the most accusatory thing of all.

The kitchen is as he remembers it, warm and familiar, but he can't feel comfortable here anymore. It is strange, but he feels he isn't a part of this household anymore. Yagami is a visitor in his own home, and as his son prepares to serve him, he freezes slightly, remembering the time he spent watching this room with L. It had been the most painful surveillance work of his career. L had assured him it had been necessary, and he had agreed, but that doesn't make up for abusing the trust his family had in them.

He had wanted to exonerate them. He had wanted to prove that his children were innocent, that his wife was exactly as she appeared, but in the end all he had done was let L turn them into a bunch of voyeurs. He had learned things about his son which had surprised him, but those things just prove that Raito is just a normal teenager, despite how paranoid L is.

He hates L for that. L always watches Raito more closely than anyone else, apparently fascinated by his son. He knows Raito is the type of person who stands out simply by being himself, but there is no reason to believe he is Kira. Raito has helped him catch criminals in the past; he is not about to become one.

Raito is across from him, setting down the teapot on top of a coaster which is already in place. There's also two cups, and fresh tea already in strainers, just waiting for the hot water, and Yagami can't find it in himself to be surprised. Raito has always been the type to plan things out throughly.

"Why are you still up?" he asks, smiling as his son pours the water into the delicate stripped cup, European in style, and waving off the sugar cube before Raito has a chance to drop it. It's too late to for him to have it, it will keep him awake, and he wants to be awake tomorrow.

There's an elegant shrug of the shoulders, and then Raito slides into the seat across from him. "I thought you'd be home," he says. He ignores the tea in front of him, and instead threads his fingers together and rests his elbows on the table. Yagami knows Raito is going to wait for the tea to cool before drinking it, since Raito once burned himself on a cup that was too hot when younger and is now overly cautious.

It's strange what a parent remembers.

"I wanted to wish you luck tomorrow," he tells his son, wishing there was a way he could explain more. He wants to tell him about the Kira investigation, to apologize for ever letting him be suspected and followed, for being a poor father, but there is nothing he can do. All he can do is wait for the tea to brew, and stare at the man his son is becoming.

The cheekbones are more pronounced than he had remembered, and the eyes seem a bit older, but there is still something innocent in his expression. It seems like yesterday when Raito was a child, wearing a shiny fake badge and wanting to play cops and robbers, but now he is leaving high school and preparing to major in law enforcement. It's an honor that his son wants to follow in his footsteps, and every time he looks at Raito, he is filled with pride - but now that pride is tinted with his own shame.

The smile Raito offers is full of empathy. "I would have understood if you couldn't. The Kira investigation is important. You're still in charge of it, aren't you?" It's a rhetorical question, and it's a question Yagami can't answer. None of the investigators are allowed to say anything to their families anymore. He opens his mouth to deny any particular position, but Raito shakes his head. "Sorry, dad. I know you can't say anything. I just meant that your work is important, and I understand."

He tries not to show his relief. Never before did he have to watch what he said to Raito. His son had been invaluable in the past as he sorted out his thoughts, and Yagami wants nothing more than to work through the evidence with his son offering keen insight. "I know you do. How have your mother and Sayu been?"

"They miss you, but they're proud of your work. I've been helping around the house as much as I can, and Sayu's really been working hard. Her grades have been slipping a little, but I tutored her a bit in math, and that's sorted itself out." Raito traces his slender fingers along the cup, and then looks up through shadowed eyes. "It's okay, father. We know your heart is here with us."

He wonders about that sometimes. Sometimes it seems like Kira has consumed his entire existence, that he would sell his very soul if it would guarantee the chance to capture him. At night, when he catches a brief rest on the futons L has set up within the hotel room they are using as headquarters, he dreams about his family, and reflects on what things were like before the deaths began to occur. Life was simpler then, when he was a family man with a proud career as a policeman, and he had two wonderful children and a wife whom he loved. He would hang out with the guys once a week at the bar, and occasionally spend time playing shogi with a couple of old classmates. His cases had been hard, and sometimes the criminals did get away, but he had always believed that eventually, justice would triumph.

He wasn't so sure now. Kira had changed all the rules, acting with god like power, and a part of him wondered if the people who claimed that Kira was an agent of a high being might not have been right. It seemed like Kira was always ahead of them, and his abilities simply weren't human to begin with.

But then L would tell him Kira was a petulant brat, and Yagami would agree.

He removed the strainer from the tea, putting it on the saucer and finally taking a sip. It was still hot, nearly scalding, but the black tea was bitter enough to sharpen his senses. "How did your entrance exams go?"

"Well enough. I only took one. I'm going to Touou," Raito said. He pushes a lock of hair behind his ear, and tilts his head sideways in the manner he uses when he's about to tease someone.

He knows he shouldn't rise to the bait, but Raito's eyes are glinting, and Yagami wants to laugh with him. "Shouldn't you have looked at other universities?"

"Why? I'm the top student on many of the national exams, so getting in Touou wasn't a problem. It has the best law enforcement program in the nation." He grins. "I understand one of their alumni is the director of the Tokyo Police."

It's so hard not to burst with pride, at knowing his son wants to attend his alma mater. "Your acceptance came?" he asks.

"Two weeks ago."

It feels like getting hit in the stomach, realizing that he missed that celebration. Raito merely quirks an eyebrow. "Are you going to be able to come home in time for dinner tonight?" he asks.

He wants to promise that he can, but he knows that it won't happen. L had been reluctant to let him leave for this long, and there is no telling how severe Kira's next major plan will be. Criminals are dying daily, but L says that Kira will act more openly if they get too close. Even though he's pledged himself to that goal, and understands it may mean his life, he is afraid.

"I think I'll have to work," he says finally. He will instead eat dinner with L, and see shadows of his son in the other youth. He doesn't know much about the young man he calls Ryuuzaki, but there's an unconscious charisma to the boy. He and Raito are nothing alike physically, but he has a feeling they are kindred spirits. He wants desperately to be allowed to bring Raito into the investigation, because he knows that if Raito and L meet, there is nothing the two couldn't accomplish between them - but L suspects Raito still. Another part of him is selfishly glad Raito is forbidden from participating, because he doesn't want his son risking his life.

"That's okay. I'll keep an eye on Sayu and mother."

Yagami shuts his eyes, before draining the cup of tea which is too bitter. He should have allowed Raito to sweeten it for him, but it is too late now. "Thank you," he whispers, before opening his eyes.

Raito looks at his own cup and finally picks it up. It takes him fifteen seconds to polish the cup off, and then he smiles. "Next time, I'll have sake ready," he promises.

"You're still too young."

"I'm eighteen."

The words hang between them, and Yagami doesn't know what to say. He treats his son like an adult most of the time, but he wants to keep Raito innocent as well. Finally Raito looks at the clock, which is approaching one. "Why don't you go get some rest? I'll clean up after you."

"I'll handle it," Yagami volunteers. It's the least he can do for the son who is trying so very hard to do whatever he can. "You have graduation tomorrow. Don't worry about the dishes, get some sleep."

Raito looks ready to argue, but then changes his mind. "Thanks, father." He rises to his feet, and in a lithe movement stretches, a long body motion that extends his entire length as he throws his arms over his head, reaching for the sky. "We'll have breakfast tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Yagami says, smiling back at his handsome, intelligent son. He can't make a promise to be there when Raito wakes, because Kira can act at any time.

Raito is at the door to the hallway before he pauses, turning around to look over his shoulder. "Father?"

"Yes?" Yagami wonders if there's something he's forgotten, or if now is the time to give the speech about manhood he'd always planned, even though he thinks it's probably a superfluous gesture. His son is too mature, and Yagami counts his blessings that Raito is Raito, and not anyone else.

"If anyone can catch Kira, you can," Raito says. All playfulness has flown; Yagami is reminded of that day a few months ago when Raito vowed to catch Kira himself if anything happened to his father. Then he smiles slightly, and before Yagami can wish him a good night, Raito disappears into the darkness of the hallway, carefully shutting the door behind him.

END


	2. Black Widow

**Black Widow**

by Aishuu

Disclaimers: Spoilers for mid-40's, Ooba and Obata's.

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_That guy…_

Misa stared into the face of the one who was handcuffed to her beloved Light, willing him with all her power to just drop dead. Sometimes she wished she really was the second Kira, the way he claimed, just so it would happen.

It never did.

"Would you like Misa to get you another cup of tea, Ryuuzaki?" she asked, blinking wide eyes at him.

He scratched his head with a long finger, his eyes focused on the computer screen in front of him. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Light watching her with an indulgent smile, much the way someone watched their favorite puppy.

"I'm okay right now," Ryuuzaki replied absently.

"Let Misa know if you need anything!" she said cheerfully, threading her fingers behind her back as shifted, her breasts thrusting forward subtly. He looked up at her, and like any male, his eyes automatically fell first to her chest before rising to her face.

Maybe it was imagined, the slight flush that colored his cheeks. She doubted it.

"I'm fine."

"I could use a cup," Light said, his lips curving just a bit more than they had a second before.

"Misa will go right away!" she said, leaning across Ryuuzaki to brush a kiss on Light's cheek. Ryuuzaki froze until she pulled away.

As she shifted away, she saw the intensely private look pass between the two geniuses, the one of relief that they were at last alone. She knew she was the third wheel, especially as they worked together to piece together the riddle of the third Kira.

She didn't care. She knew what she wanted, and she knew how to get that.

It took her far less time to return with the tea then they had expected - a product, perhaps, of her having Matsuda keep a kettle warm that afternoon. Matsuda, like every other man she'd ever known, wanted to keep her happy. It just took effort to convince them, occasionally, that was their purpose in life.

Ryuuzaki was the hardest she'd ever met.... but she knew he'd fall.

_I'll fall in love with you..._

Yes, yes he would.

She set the tea tray next to Light, hugging him from behind. "Is it going well?"

"We're at an impasse..." Light said, scratching his brow with frustration.

She rubbed Light's shoulders comfortingly. "Misa is sure you'll figure it out! You're the smartest person in the world!"

Ryuuzaki actually looked a bit offended at that, and the metal of the handcuffs chimed as Ryuuzaki yanked his hand.

"Misa is sure Ryuuzaki and Light are the best team possible!" she finished enthusiastically, clapping her hands. "Make sure you drink the tea Misa made with love!"

Another kiss for Light, and then she smiled innocently at Ryuuzaki before leaving.

She had brought two cups of tea.


	3. Shinigami Switching

** Title: Shinigami Switching**  
**Fandom: Death Note/Yami no Matsuei**  
**Disclaimer: Does anyone really WANT these?**  
**Note: The following three drables were written as part of a "crossover" challenge on deathnote100. I accept no responsibility... people kept egging me on.**

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_Title: Damn These Hungry Time_

There were several times Raito considered forfeiting ownership of his Death Note just to get rid of his shinigami.

He could stand the burden of becoming a murderer. He could deal with the fact that there was an obsessive detective after him. He could even cope with the fact that his Shinigami watched him with puppy-like eyes disaprovingly 24-7.

But the whining was going to be the death of him.

"Raittttoooooooo, I'm hungrrrrrrrryyyy."

"Go eat an apple or something, there's some in the kitchen," Raito said crossly, wishing he had ear plugs.

"But that would be healthy!" Tsuzuki Asato whined.

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Title: My Friend, the Chocolate Cake_

Ever since meeting L, Raito hadn't had an ounce of sleep.

L, he discovered, was a big fan of sweets and was constantly snacking on the best money could by. Needless to say, it made the other glutton he knew insufferable.

"That looks soooo gooodddd," Tsuzuki said, drool appearing at the corning of his mouth. "Do you think he'd notice if I took one?"

Considering the way L tended to watch his food like a lion with her cubs, Raito knew stealing food would be a futile idea. "Hands off," he hissed out of the side of his mouth.

"Did you say something, Raito-kun?" L asked as he dug into a strawberry torte.

"See if he'll shareeee...." Tsuzuki demanded, pulling on Raito's sleeve.

"No!" It was an answer to the both of them.

L gave him that peculiar look he used when he was humoring someone. "Raito-kun, I've been meaning to tell you something."

"Yes?" Raito did his best to tune of Tsuzuki's sniffles about how mean he was being.

"If you want something of mine, just ask. I'm tired of missing my dessert when I go for lunch."

Raito blushed brilliantly at the accusation, wishing he could shoot Tsuzuki the nasty look he deserved. "Uh..."

"Having a sweet tooth is nothing to be concerned about, but being a kleptomaniac might be."

At times like this, Raito wondered if the wrong genius hadn't found the Death Note. He was half tempted to brush it against L, just so he would have to deal with Tsuzuki instead. The image of L and Tsuzuki fighting over the sugar almost made him smile as he was forced to apologize for "his" snack attacks.

Really, having a shinigami was almost more problems then it was worth.

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Title: Sweet like Cyanide

Hisoka had always thought his untimely death was unfair, but now he had another reason to curse the gods.

"Does this make me look fat, Hisoka?" Misa posed in a skimpy red dress that had black lace accents.

"Hn." He hoped his noncommital response would suffice, because he'd learned the wisdom of not telling her she looked like a slut. She could take it any way she wanted to, and hopefully spare his eardrums.

"Hmm, you're right. It's not sexy enough." She ducked back into the fitting room, and there was the sound of fabric being shed. "No peeking!" she called out.

As if he would. The shoe to the head the first time had been lesson enough. Not that he had been looking, but it was hard to avoid staring a bit when a girl started to strip...

He couldn't understand what he had done to deserve this. For some reason Hisoka couldn't fathom, Terazuma had destroyed himself for this twit, and now he was stuck tailing her around as she merrily killed people in search of Her One True Love.

Honestly, it was pathetic.

He was tired of fashion, tired of listening to her swoon over "Kira," and sick of the airhead. Every now and then she would show some sign of intelligence, but those would vanish as soon as Kira was mentioned. And since she had Kira on the brain....

Hisoka hated stupid people.

The door swung open again, and Misa stepped out wearing a swimsuit which left little to the imagination. "You like this?

He tried to keep from blushing as he snorted another "Hn!" which came out more like "H...hn!"

Misa smiled at him brilliantly. "That's the reaction I'm looking for!" She glomped onto him happily.

Hisoka just tried to keep his eyes on her face, instead of the breasts which were pushing against his chest. What had he done to deserve this? 


	4. Mirror Dreams

Aishuu Offers: 

**Mirror Dreams**  
A Death Note Ficlet  
Disclaimer: Ooba and Obata.  
Spoilers: Through 16.

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He could never remember his dreams, not clearly, but the fragments he could recall in those few seconds between waking and sleeping were enough to give anyone nightmares. Death, and people coming back to life. Murder, and being responsible. Dying... and being reborn. Knowing that for him, there would be no heaven or hell, but only uncertainty. Then those memories would fade, and he would be left with nothing except the nagging certainty that one day, death would come for him, and it wouldn't be kind.

Most people considered him a bit morbid, a bit weird. He had been normal once, he recalled, while in junior high. He once had friends and enemies, and then something had... changed. But he couldn't remember what.

He tried not to let that bother him. He tried to live a normal life, but he couldn't help turning whenever he heard about death. It was a fascination - as much as he hated it, he knew that it always dogged his steps. Since that time... that point when his life had... changed, people around him had tended to end up dead.

It had hurt, when his mother had died when he was fifteen - and his father died six months later. They had spilt him and his siblings up, but that had been okay, because maybe his curse wouldn't carry over to them. Then his best friend died when he was seventeen, and he'd forgotten how to cry. He had became numb to death.

Maybe that was why he became a coroner. Many people seemed to be bothered by touching the dead, the old Shinto belief of contact with the dead bringing impurity still resonating on some level in the Japanese soul. He, though, had come to love the dead, because often times no one else would.

He was strange, he knew. But so was the rest of his family, twisted by the premature deaths of their parents. He supposed that being orphaned young would do that to anyone.

His gift at identify the hows and whys of death had vaulted him into a national position at twenty-six. He was able to almost see what had happened in those last few moments, and often times his insights would lead investigators to murderers or absolve others of blame in what were accidents or natural deaths.

He had never been wrong.

When the string of deaths began in the jails, as notorious criminals began to die one by one, something about the style resonated on a deep level. Even though he'd been on vacation - his first in two years - he'd made arrangements with the police to have a look at one of the bodies.

The body was of a thirty-six year old child molester, Mikado Eiri. The man had died nearly two days before, and rigor mortis had passed. He was unbothered as he stared at the already dissected form of the slightly-overweight man. His eyes, still bulging open, were cloudy, and the scent of death lingered in the morgue.

He pulled on plastic gloves, and whipped the sheet back, staring at the naked body of a man who had raped sixteen children. As his hand reached out to pull back a flap of skin, he brushed the corpse's head...

And he knew.

This was not a natural death, no matter how the man had died. Yellow eyes, barely remembered, stared at him from his memory, and he knew that someone had sentenced this man to death. Someone... had managed to find a way to kill from afar.

He... he just knew, in the same way he had always known. He'd conducted his autopsy, having a hard time keeping his hands from shaking. The man had died from a heart attack, and he had to reluctantly concur with those findings in his official report.

However, there was one more thing he could do. In his apartment, late that night, Kagami Taro picked up the phone to call his brother.

"Ryuuzaki, you need to look into these prison deaths. There's something going on there." 


	5. Good Genes

**Good Genes**  
_by aishuu_  
Challenge: deathnote100's Reason versus Gut Feeling  
Words: 200 (double drabble!)

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Ryuuzaki loved his father, a tall man with thoughtful countenance. His father was perfect, and a God in his child's eyes. 

Logically, his father should love him in return, but he knew inside that whenever his father addressed him, he was really speaking to someone else. His mother had died when he was born, and sometimes he thought his father was really looking for her in his eyes. Later on, he would learn differently.

They all said he was growing up exactly like his father, with so much promise. He tried his best to be smart enough, strong enough, to earn his father's adoration, but that never came. Instead, his father would nod with approval at every award, as though it was only to be expected of his son.

He was fifteen when his father died. It was a sudden death; a heart attack that shouldn't have happened in an otherwise healthy man.

Ryuuzaki didn't feel lost. Instead, he went through his father's desk until he found the notebook his father had always kept hidden. He was smart, as smart as his father had been, and knew exactly what he needed to do.

Yagami Ryuuzaki would make his father proud.


	6. Countdown to Valentine's

**Countdown to Valentine's **

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It has been 297 days since he died. 

There's been rumors about Amane Misa for a while. She's strange and uninterested in everything except the love of her life, Yagami Light. Her coworkers find her hard to talk to, and they let Misa her keep her distance. However, upon the shocking announcement that her fiance has died, people start to reach out to her again.

She shuns them. She ignores the knocks on her door, the calls of people who had once been her friends. The only one she ever sees is the delivery man, who stops by at 2 p.m. on Saturdays with her groceries. Every time she opens the door, he is shocked by her deterioration. There's something incredibly tragic about her haggard face, the ruined beauty of a once world-renowned model.

Amazingly enough, she doesn't care. Without Light, there is no reason for her to look beautiful. She's broken all the mirrors in her apartment, anyway.

She wishes she could put a label on her feelings, but _grieving_ seems too mundane, and _depression_ is too mild. In one of her more fanciful moments she decides that _darkness_ will do, since there's no Light in her life.

Her memory is patchy, but she finds a diary she created while originally dating Light. There's some strange references she doesn't understand, but she does find a prediction of her own death, courtesy of "Rem," a friend she doesn't remember.

Misa takes solace in that. She knows when she's going to die. She has an 18 month calendar, and she marks each day off with an X as soon as she goes to bed. Valentine's Day is circled with a heart, and she counts down the time.

She spends her days writing, trying to capture everything she loved about him onto paper for posterity. Light had been a remarkable person. Someone needs to tell his tale, and she's the only one left. Even though she can't remember too much about him, she will never forget his smile, or his idealism. She will never forget how _brilliant_ he was, shining just like his name.

It has been 297 days since he died. She only needs to suffer another 85 before she will be able to join him in death.


End file.
